


In a moment

by Lillian_Grace



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Sorry, My First AO3 Post, Red Room (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 14:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17469245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lillian_Grace/pseuds/Lillian_Grace
Summary: Years ago they had a life together. Years ago they had love. But that was a long long time ago.Decades into the future Natasha is still running from her past. She always moves so what is chasing her can never catch up. But now she needs to learn what it is like to stand still, and stay standing.





	In a moment

 The first time they met it was cold and snowing. She had been out training in the yard since three in the morning. Some of the handlers had come out to observe their prized pupil. She notice something new as she wove and taunted her prey. A new face. There was never anything new in the Red Room. Except perhaps the fresh blood staining the century old carpets, but then again that wasn't new either.

 

 He was tall. Well built but seemed to Rely on his his strength more than his wits. An easy target. A dark jacket and gloved hands covered what would soon reveal itself to be a reason to think twice about taking on this new challenger.

 

 She smiled as a crack rang through the courtyard. Dark hair and red blood went well with the white of the snow. She looked up and saw the crowd had grown, pupils and teachers alike had come to watch the widow. Even the Madame had come out of her office to watch this new comer face of with her prized student.

 

 The first punches were child's play. He had a good right hook but left much of his left side exposed. Maybe she'd let him land a punch just to keep it interesting before she ended it. He seemed to shake out of a daze and started to push harder. Good, a challenge.

 

 A tare of fabric and the jacket was off. Silvery metal shone in the morning sun. A star as red as the blood of the girl's corpse lying in the snow behind her. An advantage.

 

 Back and forth they spared for hours, her years of training the only thing that kept her from death. She admitted somewhat reluctantly hours later that he was exceptionally skilled in combat. The madame called an end when it was lights out and no pupil no matter how skilled was allowed outside the dorms.

 

 The next time they meet is weeks later. He comes in midway through a training session with the Americans. He is to be their new instructor. Зимний солдат they called him. The Winter Soldier.

He is brutal and blunt. His patients was almost non existent. But he taught them how to think like their enemies and kill them as such.

 

 Weeks past in a blur. The soldier comes and goes every so often, each time coming back blank and even more ruthless with the training. Not that Natalia minds. She could keep up with whatever any of the dozens of instructors that had come to the room of bleeding walls in the many years she had lived here so this was no different.

 

 But her fellow spiders where falling behind, and one should always remember that when another dancer falls, no one will risk slowing down to help her up. Another month passes. Out of twenty eight only fifteen remain.

 

 Months after that day in the court yard she enters the training room to find only the Madame and the soldier there. Today the madame tells her is the day they accelerate the widow training. The madame wants her to train one on one with the Soldier.

 When she enters the dorm that night there are only twelve pairs of handcuffs.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> hi, I'm Lillian and i have been reading on Ao3 for years and this is my first fic. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry if i have mistakes but i haven't had time to find a beta. anyways thanks and i hope you enjoy reading my stories as much as i enjoyed writing them.


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